


Kankri ==> Dream

by twii2ted_8333335



Series: Homestuck Sexcanons [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Masturbation, Minor Kismesissitude, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Xeno, Xenobiology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 00:16:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2831189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twii2ted_8333335/pseuds/twii2ted_8333335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Latula is your weakness. You don't understand how she isn't everyone's; she's stunning and remarkable and, if you allow yourself to say so, absolutely ravishing when coupled with the sight of wearing your sweater instead of that ridiculous jumpsuit. You certainly don't have an eye for fashion like Porrim, but even you knew that she could be wearing much more flattering clothing than that. Like your sweater for example.</p><p><i>Just</i> your sweater.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kankri ==> Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to another Vantas filled session of my headcanons, now featuring TWO headcanons! [this](http://homestucksexcanons.tumblr.com/post/90193813166) one and [this](http://homestucksexcanons.tumblr.com/post/64294336549) one~
> 
> Kantula is lovely, I'm so sorry

Your breath is heavy in the air. Your eyes are shut to the world around you, focused on the vivid images playing through your head. You often try to avoid those sights but there are days when you just can't help yourself. There are days when even your heavily trained resistance is whittled down to Cronus' level. All it takes is one little slip in a thought.

Latula is your weakness. You don't understand how she isn't everyone's; she's stunning and remarkable and, if you allow yourself to say so, absolutely ravishing when coupled with the sight of wearing your sweater instead of that ridiculous jumpsuit. You certainly don't have an eye for fashion like Porrim, but even you knew that she could be wearing much more flattering clothing than that. Like your sweater for example.

 _Just_ your sweater.

You dream of maybe one day being able to see that sight in reality. You dream of the day when you can take off that horrid suit and give her clothing that's much more refined. You dream of being able to show her what she does to you in your darkest times when you seriously considered renouncing your celibacy if it means being able to fill her quadrant, even her spade since Mituna is still present in her heart. 

You wish you could at least control your body when it came to Latula. All those years of claiming celibacy, living up to it, denying yourself the natural indulgence — all undone by a few thoughts and your inability to steady your hand. For some God awful, likely caliginous reason, you imagined Cronus teasing you about how your hand is fairly steady at the moment: stroking your fully unsheathed bulge, rubbing the tips of your fingers over the slightly tapered tip. The motions are all quite practiced viewed from the eyes of another. 

You're actually quite frantic by this point. Your pace is steady and firm but extremely quick. You've never been partial to drawing this out, especially when you were feeling a little more vocal. The last thing you needed was Latula walking in on you saying how beautifully she looked in your sweater, covering just enough of her body that you didn't feel that great of a need to tag any triggers. Although if you focus on the image long enough, you're positive you can see the fabric slipping down her shoulders, exposing her skin and her collar and — 

"Oh, _goodness_ , Latula..." You're close now, the throbbing in your bulge and your nook overwhelming, in synchronization, fast beating like your bloodpusher. You can't handle it.

You pull your hand away before you have a chance to orgasm. Why give yourself a reward for the horribly disgusting activity? Mastubartion in general is a dirty deed, but the debauchery of imagining a troll who already has that quadrant filled is truly unforgivable. You could never let yourself live it down if you let yourself finish to those thoughts. 

Your breathing hangs heavy in the air. Your eyes are open once more and they see that the world around you is still empty. You ignore the throbbing between your legs and redress, calmly as you can. You check trollian for missed messages, finding the standard ones from Cronus, one from Porrim and one from Latula. Your face flushes. There is no way you can speak to her after the events that just took place.

She does seem insistent though and you would feel even worse if you ignored her messages. You suppose you'll just have to buck up, wear a slightly longer than usual sweater and meet up with her like she wishes. 

This will certainly prove interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, most of this was written too late at night with too few words (literally my shortest one) and probably too many mistakes. Will I fix that? Maybe. Will you care if I don't? Doubt it. 
> 
> Thank you for the understanding yo~


End file.
